


it’s up to the imagination

by maybeimasimp (strawberrybasket)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry, Im sorry but his friends are mostly just mentioned, M/M, POV GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), WHY ISNT BADBOYHALO A CHARACTER TAG, and I don’t know what timeline this takes place in, dream - Freeform, george is a writer, im bad at writing stream ideas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29558952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrybasket/pseuds/maybeimasimp
Summary: Basically, George writes fiction, and is (or was) working on a little story about the adventures of a man named Dream.He enjoyed writing about it, until his ideas stopped, and his writing flame burned out.He forgets about it for a while, until a very familiar man appears in front of his computer one night.He must be going insane.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. appearance

**Author's Note:**

> ah, so um, i kind of pulled this idea out of nowhere and decided to write it so, here we are !! i hope i pieced it together well enough, and please enjoy ^^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George just wanted some regular sleep fr
> 
> Now he has to deal with a fictional character springing to life.

In short, George is a fiction writer.

He’s written many side stories, one-shots, and fandom related things, but there’s one story that he had created entirely by himself.

It was about the (albeit cliché) adventures of a man named Dream, who George passionately wrote about frequently. He loved his own written creation, however weird that may be, and held a constant update schedule for chapters, his couple of readers being regulars who kept up with the story.

He loved writing about Dream, making adventures as exciting as he could; adventures he wished he could go on himself. Of course, he knew it would be impossible to do so, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he?

He let himself use writing as an escape from reality, his unfortunately lonely reality. Sure, he had his friends who he streamed with, who made him happy in the moment and when they talk to him, but in all honesty, it wasn’t enough to keep him happy.

Sometimes, all he wanted was to get sucked into his own writing and go on his own adventures.

Right now, he was setting up for a stream, planning to update his fic afterwards.

To do so, he needed an idea, and was trying to brainstorm before the stream so he could actually focus on the story once he was done.

The problem was, his mind was blank. He dismissed it for later and went on with the stream, and was joined by a few of his friends.

  
  


A little while later, and the stream had gone by fairly quickly to George. It was just them playing with a new plugin they’d created.

He was now focused on adding a new chapter, but he really couldn’t get any inspiration. It was starting to upset and stress him, since his update day was drawing near and he really didn’t want to disappoint his readers. He was also really invested in this, and didn’t want to break his stride (i’m sorry).

An hour later, he couldn’t think of anything, and just decided to push it to tomorrow; he’d have time then. He went to make himself some dinner, fed Luca, and just went to bed. He felt bad for leaving his story on hold, but it’s not like it was too late for him to update.

That night, he’d fallen asleep thinking about adventures and his one and only protagonist Dream.

The next morning he woke up feeling horrible, and terribly dehydrated. The first thing he did was take a sip of water from the bottle next to his bed, and the next was think about his dilemma from the night before.

Honestly, it shouldn’t have been his biggest concern, but he really worried about his lack of creativity. He had just finished a multiple chapter arc and now needed to start something new, the only thing stopping him being the writer’s block clinging to him.

He set it aside, and moped around for a while, spending the day doing really nothing.

He spent half of it thinking, and gave up once he got hungry and went out to eat.  
His brain immediately went back to story related things. He didn’t think he could consult Sapnap or Bad, especially because then he’d have to explain that he wrote, which wouldn’t necessarily be bad, but it may be awkward, so he just let himself suffer in silence.

  
  


The next day rolled around, and he gave up. He should’ve had an idea by now, because today was an update day. He decided to hop onto the SMP server and take his mind off of it. It eventually worked, and he didn’t think of it again.

Days actually started to pass by, and he’d started forgetting about his fic entirely, working on other stuff he had to do.

About a month passed, and he had now completed forgot about the fic, leaving his readers in the dark.

It didn’t really change anything about his mood or his life, since it was something he did on the side, but he did feel a bit more.. empty. The writing had filled him a bit but now that it was gone, he just kind of had an empty hole in his time and heart. Any time he used to write was now just him scrolling on social media, doing nothing in particular.

He starts to feel a bit more down, becoming lazier and sluggish, more careless.

His friends, specifically BadBoyHalo and Sapnap, notice this one day while they were just hanging out on the phone. They could practically feel his exhaustion from the way he spoke.

“Hey, dude, are you..” Sapnap paused, perhaps thinking of how to say it, “okay? You seem kind of dead,” he’d decided, trying not to sound like he was being rude or anything. George didn’t take it that way anyways, understanding his friend was concerned.

“I’m alright, just a little tired,” he’d responded after a bit of thought.

“Okay, just know we’re here, alright?” Bad joined, his slight worry evident in the tone of his voice.

“Thanks, guys.”

They went on without mentioning anything more, since George had forced himself to wake up and stop moping, at least while he was talking to them.

George did his usual routine of getting ready for bed. He always fed Luca around dinner time, so now that his cat was content, he could rest peacefully.

It was around 2 AM when he heard a crashing sound come from his monitors, as well as static and a voice. His first thought was that a burglar broke in, so he looking for something he could use as a weapon, anything. He could try to sneak to the kitchen and get a knife, but he would have to be quiet.

So, as he started to tip-toe to his kitchen, he saw the figure standing up in his room. The burglar had probably tripped on his equipment while looking for valuable stuff, he thinks. His computer set up had been pretty expensive, really.

He keeps sneaking past, and steps on a creaky floorboard. That’s when he knew, he messed up, because the burglar’s head snapped in his direction, looking surprised. He didn’t have any kind of mask on or anything, so George just thought the guy assumed no one was home for some reason.

George made a run for it, hoping he’d reach the kitchen in time, and the man quickly followed.

“Wait!” He heard from behind him, not minding it any attention.

George was already trying to open the drawer when he was grabbed from behind, arms wrapped around his and keeping him from grabbing any of the sharp objects. He threatened to scream and the man let him go, asking him to calm down.

“Please, leave, I—, I’m not afraid to use this,” George threatened, weakly holding the knife in front of him. It was the biggest one he had, but since he wasn’t a big cook, it wasn’t all that large.

“Woah! Calm down, I’m not a thief or anything if that’s what you’re thinking,” the man says as he leans against the counter warily, eyeing the knife in George’s hand.

“How should I know? You’re in my house at like, 2 in the morning! If you’re not a burglar, why are you in my house?” He stepped away as he spoke, not wanting to be near the man in case he tried something.

“I was hoping you’d know,” the stranger said with a slight frown on his face.

“Who are you?” George started with, lowering the knife only a bit.

“Oh uh, my name is Dream. You’re George, aren’t you?”

“What?”

George lowered the knife completely, utterly confused.

“What do you mean you’re Dream?”

“Exactly.. what I said?”

“No, no, what do you mean you’re Dream? He’s not..” George didn't know what to think at the moment.

“Isn’t what? Also, why do you need me to keep repeating myself? I, don’t know what’s going on,” “Dream” had answered, but George didn’t know what to make of it. He stepped a bit closer to looks at Dream’s features. The blond, fluffy hair, the freckles littering across his skin, the green eyes(though they looked yellow to George), the tall figure, his sharp jawline, and utter perfectness was an uncanny resemblance to the description of the Dream from his story, and he was exactly how George had envisioned him as well.

“So, you’re saying you’re Dream, from that.. novel thingy I forgot about a while ago,” George questioned, hysterical and doubting himself.

“I must be going crazy. I need more sleep I—“

“What do you mean by ‘novel’?” Dream cut in, looking as confused as George felt.

“You’re.. a character from the fiction thing I was writing a while back, I guess. At least, you look like him,” George explained, feeling crazy that he was believing it himself.

“I’m a character? You mean.. everything that happened, like, in my life, was you writing?”

“Were you living before this?”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I don’t know! You’re literally a fictional character that apparently just randomly jumped to life in my house! What do you expect me to think?”

_I’m going insane,_ George thought to himself, worrying that he really was.

“I’m going back to bed,” he said before giving Dream the chance to say anything,

“This is, all some stupid, weird dream that’ll go away in the morning.” He assured himself, ignoring Dream, who was following him.

“What? You’re not even gonna, maybe explain why I’m here?” Dream pleaded, seeming every bit confused as George.

“I was hoping you’d have the answer. Now, goodnight,” he’d echoed Dream’s earlier words unintentionally, saying it imperatively to signal he wanted to be left alone. Dream sighed and treaded to the living room, and George hoped it really was just a dream.

He’d turned on his heels and stopped to face “Dream.” He had to keep the stranger from leaving if he was, by any chance, real.

He felt stupid for even leaving the possibility it was real.

“H—, hey,” he started with, getting Dream’s attention on him. He gulped.

“If you really are real, I can’t just, let you stay free around my house and, leave the chance of you robbing me there. You’ll have to stay in... uh,” George paused to think,

_I don’t know where to put him_ , George thought. If he kept him in his room, there should be no way for him to rob anything without hearing him leave, right? But that left him literally helpless against the stranger if he fell asleep in his presence.

George started chewing on his lip in frustration and confusion, and spaced out in thought. He didn’t notice Dream inch towards him until the taller’s hand was on his shoulder. He flinched away and blinked to wake himself up. His exhaustion must be muddling his mind.

“Look, I get that you don’t trust me, so I’ll stay anywhere you want me to, but I’m really no thief,” Dream stated, sincerity clear in his eyes.

In his state of sleepiness, George made a stupid decision.

“You’re gonna stay in my room for tonight.”

The room of choice shocked both of them.

“Isn’t that..?” Dream started cautiously, though he was cut short.

“If you’re really not a burglar, you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Immediately, they both thought he was stupid.

“I’m tired and I want to go back to bed, okay? Just, here, I’ll give you some pillows or something.” His eyes darted around for something he could use, and started gathering pillows and blankets for Dream. He really couldn’t believe himself at the moment, but he decided that if he really were going crazy, he might as well just go along.

He knew it was really dangerous to let a literal, very suspicious, obviously stronger stranger even stay in his house, so he knew something was wrong with him when he’d decided to let him sleep along side him.

“Here, follow me,” George signaled, his hands and arms occupied with pillows and blankets. He’d dropped some on the way, but Dream was courteous enough to pick them up for him.

“Make yourself comfortable... anywhere. Just, please let me sleep, I can’t deal with this tonight.” George assured himself that Dream would be gone in the morning, that he was dreaming, or he was seeing some kind of hallucinations because he was so tired.

Dream plopped his mount of bedding onto the floor and arranged it to where he’d be pretty comfortable and, seeing that he’d do just fine on the floor, George let himself flop down onto bed and attempted to sleep, though he felt as if he were being watched while doing so. He turned his head to face Dream and just barely missed a nervous turn of his head. The taller was fiddling with his hands and looking everywhere but George, and he sighed.

“Do you need anything?” George asked, not wanting him to maybe end up waking him later because he didn’t get everything he needed.

“Um.. well, no, I guess,” Dream replied, staring into the ceiling, his face scrunching up and his eyes squinting due to the lack of light.

“‘M just, a little confused, maybe scared. I don’t know how I got here so.. “ he trailed off, and left George listening to silence. He didn’t answer and tried to sleep, the feeling on the back of his head again.

He just hoped he didn’t make the wrong choice.

  
  
George fell asleep feeling strangely comforted after a few seconds of trying to rest. He decided that he could deal with this later, and so he finally let himself sleep even though possible danger was laying on his bedroom floor.

His life was going to get a lot more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello !! i hope that chapter wasn’t too short, but i’m kind of trying to space stuff out into different chapters a little.
> 
> if you liked this chapter, please subscribe to stay updated !! i’ll try to update as frequently as i can ^^
> 
> thanks for reading, so, until the next chapter !


	2. dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George wakes up and finally has to face his reality. Dream, his completely made up, not real, fictional character, is now alive, and sleeping in his bedroom.
> 
> When did his life get so confusing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah! i’m so sorry, i meant to update waaaaaaay sooner than this, so i made the chapter longer than the last to maybe compensate for it! also, i moved to rating up one notch, because while there will be no smut (sorry) , i do reference some kind of things and i make a lot of references so I just wanted to make sure no one’s uncomfortable. it’s not exactly extreme or detailed, but it’s just not— completely innocent, y’know?
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy!!

  
When George awoke, he was blissfully ignorant to the situation.

That is, until he sat up and saw the curled up figure on the floor, and the memories of the previous night flooded his mind.

So, he wasn’t insane, he was glad to know.

He studied the man’s features one more time, and couldn’t find any difference or mistake in his appearance. He even slept the way he had written him to!

He would know, obviously. He had obsessed over writing it with much detail when he first started; when updates came faster and irregularly. So up until he started his schedule, his update patterns were all over the place. Which, said schedule was unfortunately broken now.

He started to wonder why he was here, and why he himself was so calm about this.

He shook his head and decided that for now, this guy was indeed Dream.

It was a bit weird, since he knew basically everything about Dream’s existence since, well, he had written him. He knew every detail about him, and Dream seemed to know somethings about George, even if it was just his name.

He started to make Dream’s favorite type of breakfast; regular eggs, pancakes, and a little bit of toast. He knew exactly how Dream liked his eggs too: a little runny, but mostly well done.

He thought about how strange and creepy this would be if the man in question wasn’t someone he’d created himself.

He started to make the food, and began to cook some oatmeal as well, since he knew that Dream liked that every once and a while.

He felt almost stalkerish, but kept reminding himself he knew these things because Dream was of his own creation, someone he had breathed to life with passion and love and devotion to writing. He humored himself with the thought that his love for writing was the reason Dream came to life.

About forty minutes later, George was finished cooking, and Dream was still nowhere to be seen.   
He started to think that this was all really him just going insane, and it was just lingering when he woke up because he had only just gained consciousness.

George felt stupid, and a twinge of unexplainable disappointment stung him in the gut. Why he was disappointed, even if it were by a little, was a mystery to him.

He decided he’d at least check the room, to confirm his suspicions; confirm whether he had gone crazy or not.  
He set everything and anything he had been holding or working on down and padded to his room hesitantly, knowing that his answer lay in whether or not Dream was in his room.

George took a deep breath, and put his hand on the cold steel of the knob, turning it with painful slowness.

He shut his eyes and opened the door abruptly, squinting them open; testing.  
His eyes were met by the sight of a tall figure curled up under a blanket on a mount of pillows, in the strangest and most uncomfortable looking position he’s ever seen, a pillow trapped between strong arms. Then he realizes that Dream is, in fact, very real.

His breath hitches as he walks towards him, and notices the calm, steady rise of his chest as he peacefully sleeps. He finds himself staring if only for a second before he kneels down in order to wake him. Maybe he should have shown a bit more hospitality last night, like get him a proper bed fixed.   
A little sting of shame hits him, even if Dream looks extremely comfortable on his pillow mountain.

George starts by gently shoving him, along with quietly calling his name. When he doesn’t get a response, he tries again, a little louder.   
That was all he needed to do, apparently, because now Dream’s eyes were fluttering open, and a teardrop forms on in the corners of his eyes as he yawns, disappearing briefly.

George finds himself studying the man’s features for longer than he had intended, and confusion grows on Dream’s face.

“Is there.. something there?” He questions, confused as to why being stared at so intently.

“Huh? Oh, no, I’m sorry. I made breakfast already, if you wanted some.” George offers, but he already knew what the answer would be, seeing as Dream always woke up with an appetite.   
He still felt uncomfortable about knowing all these things about someone. He brushed the feeling off and helped Dream up, who stretched as soon as he did.

“What’d you make?”

“Uh, eggs and pancakes. And a little oatmeal on the side. And toast.”

Dream beamed at the simple, but favorited breakfast choice. George noticed and couldn’t help but fight a tiny smile.

They both sit down at George’s table and begin eating for bit, before the main problem at hand was brought up.

“So, um, do you really not know why or how you got here?” George questioned, hoping it really wasn’t the case.

“No, I don’t. I just went to bed for some absurdly long amount of time and then woke up here, so I have no idea of how I’m here or why,” Dream explained, and George grimaced. They were going to have to find out by themselves, then.

“Well, we can start off with, how did life work for you before.. you came to life here?”

“I dunno, I just kind of like, lived. I went on crazy adventures and stuff,” Dream replied.

“So you were living out what I wrote?”

“I.. guess? It’s still weird to wrap my head around the possibility of.. that.”

George sat up a bit, “It’s not a possibility, it’s what it is. I wrote you and now you’re here, somehow. I can’t really believe you’re here either, that you were actually living stuff out.”

“Yeah..”

To test it, George brought up some of Dream’s past adventures, to which Dream seemed to remember vividly. They began to discuss it and the tension in the room lightened, the contentment of the subject being something that calmed both their nerves.

Now that Dream knew that George was responsible for everything that had happened to him, he was mad for every time he ever had to go through something embarrassing. George only laughed, maybe with a hint of nervousness. Dream could easily overpower him if he wanted, after all.

Soon, they had completely left the former subject behind, just enjoying each other’s company. George had done a great job making Dream an interesting guy, he noted to himself.   
It felt nice, being able to talk to familiarly with someone that was here. George felt his heart lighten, and his bummed mood from a few days ago lift from him, letting him feel alive. His cheeks were rosy from all the laughter, and so were Dream’s. The only difference was that the latter was tanner, so it wasn’t as contrasted, unlike George’s paler complexion.

When they finished breakfast, Dream helped with clean up, and George accepted gracefully. He felt relief, from all the exhaustion he’d been feeling. Dream being here gave him the same feeling he’d get from writing, giving him the same break from reality that he’d need every once and a while.

George soon found that Dream didn’t actually know very much about George, and the only reason he knew his name was because it was something that was just ingrained into his head, and it had always confused him. George figured it was just something to do with him being the one who wrote him.

It came time to change and George wanted to take a quick shower. He was going to ask Dream if he’d want one too, but Dream didn’t have any other clothes.

George was a bit smaller than Dream, but he’d decided that if he just picked one of his bigger shirts, Dream could wear it. They settled on that resolve and Dream took a small shower, just to freshen up.

George picked out a blue shirt for him, since it was pretty big, and he just liked the color blue overall. He set it aside and grabbed some sweat pants that were also a size or two too big. He always had oversized clothes somewhere in his closet, and he was glad he did.

He put Dream’s used clothes with the rest of his laundry and picked some comfortable clothes for himself; a grey T-shirt with some blue jeans. They were his favorite pair, so he liked wearing them even if it were just in the house.

George waited for Dream outside, neatly folded clothes in his lap. He looked up at the door and back consecutively, not knowing when to expect him to open the door and ask for clothes.

George didn’t really know how it was going to play out, really. He wondered if Dream would come out in a towel, the fabric clinging to his waist lowly, leaving his decently toned stomach on display. Of course he had to be decently fit, what with all the exercise George had basically put him through. It was mostly running though, lots and lots of running, which in addition to helping out his stomach, gave him some killer thighs.  
Climbing did his arms great justice, but it’s not like they were huge. They were pronounced enough for George, anyways. Climbing had also done the other half of work for developing his abdominals, and George gave himself credit for giving Dream two reasonable explanations to be handsomely fit.

George had put a lot of thought into character design when he made Dream, and of course he had to make him hot; he wouldn’t be making the most out of his imagination if it weren’t so.

He had been lost in thought for while at this point, and was startled back to reality when the bathroom door opened, revealing only Dream’s face.

George’s head jerked up, his eyes glued to the features of the man before him. Blond locks sticking to the sides of his face, framing it in a way that highlighted every other feature on his face; freckles that littered his face like stars across a night sky.   
Water droplets were stuck on his eyelashes like dew on a leaf in early morning, and the tips of his hair dripped every few seconds.

He bit his lip. That moment was when George knew he had made Dream seemingly perfect; a bit too perfect, maybe, so much to the point he always ended up staring, and never caught himself in the act in time, not before Dream noticed. He knew it’d get him in trouble one day, he was sure of it.

For now, he shook his head, as if it were going to clear all previous thoughts away, and pretended nothing happened, giving a puzzled Dream the folded clothes.

“Here, I hope these, um,” he paused, and he couldn’t help but gaze down, forcing his eyes up almost immediately. It’s not like he saw anything anyways, “I hope these fit you, they’re the biggest clothes I have so..” he trailed off, and Dream nodded, flashing him a small grin before accepting the clothes and shutting the door to get dressed. George turned around and internally groaned, hitting himself in head with his palm.

_What is wrong with me?_ He questioned himself, shaking his head disappointedly. He isn’t really disappointed by the fact he’s starting to simp for a fictional character—because come on, everyone has at least once in their life— but by the fact that this fictional character is alive now, making him by no means fictional, but real.

George decided he’d tend to some videos that needed editing to bide his time, and keep his mind off of, unnecessary thoughts.

When he stepped into the room with his set-up, he realized that it was a mess, most likely from when Dream appeared last night. He sighed; more cleaning for him. But, at least nothing was broken, nothing other than an empty glass that was set by his desk. He picked the pieces up and began to fix anything that had fallen out of place. His chair was basically flipped upside down, and he couldn’t fathom how that happened.

Once he cleaned everything, he became focused and started to organize everything around him. As he was settling a few things down on a little shelf, he was startled by Dream, who had purposefully scared him with a loud, “BOO!”

“DREAM!” George screeched in shock, turning so fast and standing up so suddenly he hit his funny bone, getting that weird sensation that basically sends your nervous system into another dimension. He howled in pain, grabbing the spot and rubbing it,

“What is WRONG with you?!” He complained, furious. Dream was doubled over, wheezing like a kettle that was over boiling point. George made an angry sound and straightened what he knocked over with his elbow, stomping away to his chair and getting his monitors started so he could edit. He was fuming, upset with Dream, who was slowly recovering from his laughing fit.

“George~~ it was funny! You can’t be mad at me,” he basically whined, little wheezes still coming from every little once and a while. George ignored him and Dream started poking him. He kept a straight face and continued to ignore him in favor of getting his monitor set and running.

“Geooorge. Georgieee. Geoooorgieeee. Goooogy. Gogy. Gogy.” Dream pestered, and George finally snapped,

“DREAM. I’m trying to work!” He shoved Dream and received a kicked-puppy look in return. He looked into his eyes and hated himself for giving in.

“Fine. I’m sorry, Dweamy Weamy,” he said with a mocking tone at the end, and Dream crossed his arms, looking away. George groaned,

“Dream, I’m sorry. There, okay?” He corrected, and Dream smiled, sitting up and watching the screen.

“What’re you doing?” Dream asked as he stood up, coming up behind George and leaning over his shoulder. It made George only a little nervous.

“Um, I’m editing a video. Or I’m going to,” he explained, trying to ignore the fact that Dream is very, _very_ warm behind him. He used all the self-control he had in him not to lean into it, bask in it.

“You never did tell me what you did for a living,” Dream looked down, and George lifted his gaze in order to meet Dream’s.

“I’m, um..” he forgot to speak as he stared into the green orbs. Even if they looked weirdly yellow to George, he still found them enchanting. There was a certain gleam in them, something George couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He shook his head and looked back at the screen, which was now loaded.

“I do streams and.. stuff, I guess,” he grimaced at the slight shakiness in his voice; was it noticeable enough for Dream to hear it, too? He hoped not.

George had no idea why and how he was feeling this way for someone he had basically just met. Granted, he did know Dream before this, for a long while, actually, but it was never like this. It was never actually looking into his eyes and seeing so much emotion it almost overwhelmed him; it was never actually Dream just barely hovering over him.

He drained his mind of all thoughts and hoped to move onto what needed to be done.

“Cool,” Dream replied shortly. His voice left butterflies in George’s stomach. He loved it, and hated it at the same time.

The next few hours or so consisted of George editing, and Dream snooping around his room. George didn’t really care at this point, really, because Dream would probably end up doing it at some point, seeing how he was so curious and whatnot. George cursed himself for letting Dream be annoying too— he kept pestering him and it was so hard for George to refuse him every time he’d ask to hang out or do something stupid with him.

When George was finished, he shut his monitor off, and stood up to stretch his legs and arms, a few satisfying _pop_ s following.

When he turned around, he saw that Dream was gone, so he then left the room in search of him.

He couldn’t see him anywhere in the kitchen or living room, so he moved onto his actual bedroom. He supposed he had gone to snoop around there as well.

He was not expecting Dream to be sprawled out across his bed, shirt riding up on his side since it still wasn’t exactly his size.   
George couldn’t help but notice the small indent of the muscle, and blushed the faintest pink. He then wondered why Dream was sleeping, on his bed nonetheless. In all fairness, it couldn’t really be that comfortable on the floor anyways, but it was around 3 in the afternoon, so it puzzled George a bit that Dream was napping.

He quietly padded over and sat by Dream’s side on the edge of the bed, admiring the peacefulness etched on the taller man’s face. He really was beautiful, and George wasn’t sure if there could ever be anyone like Dream.

He subconsciously brought his hand up and stretched it to thread it through the blond, fluffy locks, until he stopped himself.   
He’d already caught himself once things were too late, so he was glad he finally had enough self-control to stop it before it happened.

The only problem was, his brain managed to persuade him that this was okay, it was good. So, he ended up running his hand through Dream’s hair while the latter slept, and he felt as if he could do this forever. He enjoyed feeling the soft tufts of hair smoothly part where his finger crossed, and the soft noise of pleasure than came from Dream only encouraged him to continue.

George soon found himself getting lost in thought again, though he was really thinking of nothing.   
Dream had shifted a bit, which startled him, but stayed asleep, so George let himself keep his hand in the soft hair gently.

Soon, the calming ambience of the room had him feeling sleepy himself, and he laid next to Dream, assuming it was only to rest his head. 

_I am a little tired from editing,_

he reasoned, so he let himself close his eyes, hand still subconsciously resting on Dream’s head. He soon fell into a light sleep, or so he thought.

When he awoke, he felt rustling in his hair, and a nice feeling came from it. He gave an approving sound and cuddled into an unknown warmth next to him. He felt it move in a way he could only explain as vibrating, and looked up. As he squinted his eyes open, he saw a chuckling Dream, his arm outstretched to pet George’s hair. His own hand was resting upon Dream’s chest, and that’s when he remembered that he had fallen asleep with it in Dream’s hair.

He scrambled up, just barely adjusting his eyesight back to the light, and tumbled over his words, trying to string a small apology together.

“What are you even apologizing for?” Dream questioned, annoyingly amused. George immediately took back any apology he might’ve wanted to say.

“Well uh..” George didn’t really know what he was apologizing (or, at least trying to) for. He’d just assumed that Dream would be mad that he had fallen asleep next to him with a hand in his hair, unless George had been fortunate enough that his hand fell out or he moved before Dream had awoken. Sleeping next to another, even if it were just for a nap, is a boundary that he knew some people had, but he now realized that he had no reason to worry about that with Dream.

He tried to recall if he’d written anything like this, something that would give him a clue as to what exactly Dream thought about it, but he had never put Dream in a situation like this, not that he could remember.

George shook his head, dismissing the subject, and noticed a hair that was out of place and sticking out. He turned to look at the mirror and realized all of his hair was a little bit of a mess, disheveled and slightly parted into four different sections unevenly. He looked back to Dream, who only gave a sheepish smile.

“Well, you were playing with my hair, and it felt pretty nice, so I thought I’d return the favor,” he explained simply, as if it were a fact.

“What? How did you— I didn’t—,“ George stuttered quickly, trying to deny Dream. He wasn’t really sure why he was so adamant of the false fact that he didn’t do it, when he knew the truth all too well. Maybe he just didn’t want to be so obvious that he was falling for Dream, with undertones of simping. Though, it was probably too late for that anyways, seeing as he had been caught obviously staring on multiple occasions and had accepted Dream living here so quickly and smoothly after last night.

George was, undeniably, doing an absolute terrible job of being discreet in every way possible so far.

He internally groaned at himself, and slumped back into the pillow, causing Dream to laugh with wheezes in between. He felt something light up inside him, and softly laughed as well, even if he didn’t find anything really funny at the moment.

George then sat up and looked at the clock, and, upon seeing that it was 3:37, deducted that he must have only slept for about thirty minutes.   
He stretched his arms out above him a bit, and was interrupted mid-stretch by fingers prodding at his sides, making him bring his arms down in reflex. Dream persisted with trying to tickle him, and George tried to get away.

“Dream—! Stop that, don’t—,” he cut off, trying to catch his breath through fits of laughter. He tried to squirm away from Dream, but the latter would only move with him.   
Soon enough, Dream decided the tickle torture was over, and George was finally allowed to breathe.

“I hate you,” came a breathy response from George, who was still recovering from all the laughter.

“Now, now, Georgie, we both know that’s not true,” Dream teased, poking his side with a single finger once. George groaned and rolled over so he could stuff his face in the pillow.

“Why did I make you so annoying,” he complained, his voice muffled in the pillow. He couldn’t breathe well in the pillow, though, so he had to come up for air and turned his head so he was facing Dream.   
After a few moments of uncharacteristic silence, Dream’s response came.

“Because I’d be too perfect for you to handle if I wasn’t, of course,” he mused, positioned in a “French girl” pose as he smirked cheekily at George.   
George’s eyes momentarily glanced down at the area where Dream’s shirt rode up, and his face flushed as he turned his head away.

“You wish.”

They both knew that it was, indeed, true.

After only a few seconds of silence, Dream piped up with the complaint he was bored.

“We need to go outside or something. Do you have anything to do around here?”

George pondered for a second, but his brain came up empty.

“I dunno, really. I don’t.. go out that much,” he confessed, feeling a bit embarrassed if he did say so himself, “but we can just go out and walk around or something if you want.”

“Sure.”

And with that, Dream was already hopping out of the bed, dragging George with him.

He put some shoes on that matched his outfit, grabbed his wallet just in case. and followed Dream to the door. Dream opened the door for him and made a dramatic bow, pointing the way with his arm with an “after you.” George rolled his eyes and walked out, Dream following suit.

They didn’t really have a destination in mind, so George was kind of looking around to see if there was anything they could do.  
They hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, actually, so George decided they’d get something to eat.

“What do you feel like eating?” He asked Dream, who looked up in thought.

“Uh, I guess I’m open to anything,” he answered a bit unhelpfully. George noticed a little deli in the corner of a row of building and pointed to it,   
“Do you wanna go there?”

Dream only nodded, and so they made their way over to the little building.

Overall, it looked cozy, like a nice place for a casual date or meet-up. It had a fairly nice color theme that it stuck to, so it had an organized and put-together feel to it. There were a couple of people currently there, but it wasn’t exactly packed.   
Dream and George walked inside and were welcomed by the cheery cashier at the front, who enthusiastically took their orders and showed them to a table herself.

Neither of them had ever been here (Dream for obvious reasons), so they just picked whatever sounded the most appetizing.   
They chat a little bit, but mostly spent the time in comfortable silence as they waited for their food.

When it did come, they thanked the waiter who had brought it to them, and ate happily, especially hungry after not eating since morning.

They were seated across from each other, so George kept finding himself glancing at Dream more often than he’d like.   
He eventually settled for taking his surrounding in, and he noticed a small group of girls, who looked to be around his (and Dream’s) age or so, whispering and giggling to each to other and continuously glancing towards them. He pin-pointed their gazes to Dream, and realized they probably thought he was cute.   
He couldn’t blame them, because he had gone overboard and really made Dream as attractive as he possibly could. He also couldn’t help but feel a sinister feeling bubble up in his stomach; jealousy.   
He knew that Dream would get attention with looks like his, but he wasn’t counting on himself so feel so strangely jealous about it.

George decided he’d play it off and nudged Dream’s foot subtly, who’s eyes raised up to meet his.

George felt his heart catch in his throat as he looked into Dream’s eyes, a type of emotion in them that he couldn’t explain, and cleared his throat to speak.

“Don’t be super obvious, but I think those girls over there are fawning over you,” he said with a slight nudge in the girls’ direction. Dream’s eyes moved to glance at the girls, who noticed and whispered amongst themselves again, and smiled stupidly while looking down at his plate.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“How does this make me the idiot? If anything, you’re the idiot for not going over there and making your move. They _are_ pretty cute, y’know. It wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot.” George’s chest twisted angrily in pain at the words coming out of his own mouth, but he reacted solely on his brain.

“So I can get a girlfriend and leave? Wow, you wanna get rid of me that quickly, Georgie? I’m hurt,” he joked, clutching his heart dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” he retorted, rolling his eyes at Dream, “I was just trying to be your wingman, dude.”

“Aw, I appreciate the gesture, but I’m yours forever, Georgie~.” Dream cooed, and George squawked quietly.

“What? What are you even— why would you— why would you say that? And why do you keep saying my name like that? What is wrong with you—,” George kept complaining, and Dream simply put a finger on his lips to quiet him.

“You’re red, Georgie,” he teased, his voice low and taunting; his hand moving down to hold George’s chin.

By now, George’s pale face was burning; he could feel it, and he didn’t particularly like it. Dream’s voice lit a fire in him, melting him from the inside out.   
George knew that Dream kept saying his name on purpose, just to fluster and embarrass him. He moved Dream’s finger away from him and ducked his head a bit, going back to his food.

“I hate you, you’re so annoying.”

Dream laughed, “You love me. If you really didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” George ignored him until it was time to leave.

Once they walked out, George walked at a slightly faster pace than Dream, trying to leave him behind. As if he’d ever be able to actually leave him, though.

Dream laughed and came up behind him, having easily caught up using longer strides, and wrapped his arms around him, trapping the smaller man in his arms.

“DREAM!” He screeched, struggling to get out of the strong grip, “LET GO OF ME,” he continued, and Dream complied.

“Jeez, George, you’re making it look like I’m kidnapping you,” he wheezed, clutching his stomach as he laughed at George’s response. A few people had stared at them as they passed, but continued on with whatever business they had when they saw everything was alright. George huffed and crossed his arms, turning his head.   
“Good, maybe you’ll leave me alone, then.”

He felt a warmth press up against his back and froze as hands just barely rested on his sides, 

“You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me even if you wanted to,” Dream whispered lowly into his ear, and George jumped away,

“DREAM! Seriously, what is wrong with you today?!” George squeaked, and Dream doubled over in laughter.

“You’re literally a sadist,” George huffed, not finding how his embarrassment was funny in any way.

“Only for you, Georgie. Now, where are we headed next?” Dream finished laughing now, and was ready to go explore some more.

George grumbled something under his breath and sighed, looking around for something to do. It was getting a bit darker already, showing how much time they had spent in the deli.

Suddenly, George felt his hand being taken, and, before he could protest, was being dragged towards who-knows-where.

Their destination wasn’t too far, apparently, because they didn’t have to travel very long.

“Dream, where are we?” George asked as he moved to see. They were at a park, and George looked up to Dream questioningly.

“I’m an adventure guy, y’know? So, we’re going compensate for the adventures I’ve missed out on, and we’re going to climb a tree.”

George was absolutely dumbfounded.

“What? Dream, we’re literal grown men. People are going to—“ he was cut off by Dream’s finger pressing up to his lips once again, 

“Ah ah ah, we don’t care about other people, okay? We’re just gonna have fun and climb a tree, so c’mon!” He grabbed George’s hand again and took him to a supposedly “suitable tree.” George rolled his eyes at how childish it was, but couldn’t help feeling a little excited too.   
Once they got to the tree of choice, Dream found a way and climbed up, telling George to climb the same way he did.

He was a bit confused at first, and even with Dream directions on where to put his foot, and where to grab, he wasn’t exactly the strongest here, so he had a little bit of a struggle trying to get up.   
He managed to get up to the first branch, which was already hanging only a little under six feet off the ground. He was extremely unsteady and was starting to regret climbing up, since he knew the climb down would probably be harder.

They casually spoke for a bit before they decided they’d get down. Since George was at the lowest branch, he had to get off first in order for Dream to get down, which meant he would have no assistance getting down whatsoever.   
He really did not want to fall, and Dream didn’t want it for him either, so he kept giving him instructions on how to get down. They didn’t seem very helpful though, and George started to worry that he was stuck. He absolutely did not want to fall out of the tree and possibly break something, but he didn’t want to be stuck up here all night, so in one swift moment of boldness, he tried to swing down and off the tree.

Before he could lower himself down any further to lessen the fall, the world around him slowed, and he just barely caught the sound of Dream’s voice.

“GEORGE!” Dream yelled, and suddenly, he realized that he had slipped, now falling to the ground painfully slowly, the pain to come now anticipated.   
Then he finally hit the ground, and the world sped up again, a sharp pain shooting up his back, disappearing quickly and leaving a dull ache in its place.

Within seconds, Dream hopped off the tree from the branch he had just fallen off and was at his side, frantically blubbering apologies and asking if he was alright.   
George opened his eyes, which he had closed when he fell, and saw the worry in Dream’s eyes as he tried to speak to him.

“Agh, calm down, I’m alright,” he reassured, though his voice was a bit strained from the pain emitting from the point of impact.

“Are you sure? You’re sure you’re okay? Can you stand? Can—,” 

“I’m _fine_ , Dream. I can stand, just, help me up.”

Dream stood and pulled George up, and the latter dusted his jeans off.

“You’re sure you’re fine? You don’t think you broke anything, do you?” Dream continued his worrying, and George sighed.

“Yes, I’m sure I’m fine. Just, my tailbone is like, dying right now, but I’m pretty sure it’s not broken, so I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Dream eyed him warily, looking him up and down for any more injuries, and nodded.

“Okay, I’m sorry..” he looked down, not wanting to meet George’s gaze,

“For what?” George questioned, wincing slightly at the pain moving his leg made.

“I, made you climb the tree so it’s my fault you fell.”

George laughed, and Dream’s head shot up in surprise.

“ _Dream_ , don’t think that I’d really put myself at risk like this _only_ for you. I wanted to climb, too, so, if anything, it’s my fault for not being more careful, really. And, it was really fun anyways, so I don’t see any major downsides. Sure, I’ll probably feel sore for a few days, but it’s not like I died or anything. You don’t need to beat yourself up over something that isn’t your fault.”

Dream nodded solemnly, and fiddled with his fingers, looking down again.   
George sighed and opened his arms, much to Dream’s surprise, and beckoned him closer. Dream understood the signal and hesitantly hugged him, quickly relaxing into it as he wrapped his arms around the shorter brunette. He let his eyes shut and smiled as he enjoyed the shared warmth, disappointment filling him when they pulled away.  
George smiled up at him, and Dream returned it, warmth and fondness evident in both of them.

“We should head home now,” George suggested, and the taller agreed, so they set off to return home together, Dream still feeling a tad bit guilty as George walked a little funnily due to the ache.

They decided they’d deal with proper sleep arrangements and everything later, settling with enjoying each other’s company for now.  
  
“I just realized something,” George suddenly interjects, and Dream looks towards him, surprised.

“What?”

George looks at him sadly with a frown.

“We missed the sunset!”

Dream laughs, and looks towards George with a soft affection in his eyes, all attention absorbed and centered on one single person.

George returns the gaze, and so they walk in comfortable silence the rest of the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i hope this chapter was good!! also, i made an extremely minor heatwaves reference if anyone noticed—
> 
> i’d just like to add that i wrote the tree falling scene after something that actually happened to me and is something that uh, *cough* we never speak of, so i hope you enjoyed!! comments are always appreciated, so feel free to leave one of you have anything to say about this fic ^^


End file.
